17. Asif

ONE WEEK LATER…

“If I have any other notes or details, I will send them via email,” I said to Boris. He worked in the loan development department, and we’d been hard at work putting together the black homeowner shit; the scholarship would be our next feat.

Anastazia’s advice was far more helpful than I even knew at the time, and I was thankful as fuck.

“Okay, great.” He stood, reached across my desk to shake my hand, and went to exit.

As soon as he opened the door, Diamond was there waiting for me to allow her entrance. Every day I saw this girl, I hoped Unique fucking her didn’t cause me no issues. I wasn’t sure if he did, but if I knew my little brother like I thought I did, he’d smashed.

“Mr. St. Thomas, you have a call on the line from your mother. I tried to call into your office, but I remembered you had your phone silenced,” she said, sort of bashfully.

What the fuck did Unique do to this woman? I was gon’ act like I didn’t notice shit though.

“Aight, send it through.” I nodded, taking the desk phone off silent as Diamond made an about face, shutting the door to my office. The phone rang moments later, and I picked it up swiftly. “What you need, Ma?” I smiled.

“I can ask for anything?” the voice responded, making my smile drop upon realizing it wasn’t Lisara.

I should’ve known it wasn’t since everyone here usually referred to her as Mrs. St. Thomas and would continue to until I had a wife of my own, to avoid confusion.

“Who the fuck is this?” I frowned, in disbelief that I still recognized her voice all these years later, even with no fucking contact.

“Your mother . I thought that little mousy bitch up front told you that. How many mothers do you have?”

“I only got one, and then I got the egg donor.”

She exhaled loudly out of frustration.

“Asif, I didn’t call to fight with you, baby, or upset you. I miss you. It is so weird hearing you with this deep voice.”

“Yeah, well maybe had you come looking for me once you got out of holding, it wouldn’t be.” I was on my feet. “Why are you calling me, Nori?” Her name tasted bitter on my fucking tongue. I’d never used it until now, I realized. She’d been mama until I was about nine and a half, and then she was nothing.

“I told you I miss you.”

“Since when? Ain’t you been in the free world since I was nineteen? It’s been seven years since then. When the fuck you start missing me? When the fuck did you even start caring about me?”

She hesitated a bit before speaking.

“I know. I know. We have a lot to talk about. Well, I have a lot to tell you. Can we have lunch or dinner or, hell, even breakfast, so I can talk to you?”

“I’m busy, so if I do decide to, it won’t be any time soon.”

“That’s totally fine, baby. But if you can, squeeze your mother in.”

“You don’t got the privileges that come with being my mother. Someone else got that.” I said that last line to hit her where it hurt, but also because the shit was true.

“Of course. Well, this is my best number, so call or text whenever you’re ready.”

“Mhm.” I hung up then buzzed for Diamond to come back. When she did, I said, “In the future, don’t send any more calls through from people claiming to be my relatives. The only mother I got is Mrs. St. Thomas.”

“Yes, sorry. It won’t happen again.” She nodded, wearing that same weird look as before.

“Aight.” I dismissed her ass before taking a seat and pondering. What were the fucking odds?

Later that night…

I lay across the bed, perpendicular to Anastazia, as my head rested on her stomach. Sophie was now knocked out in her brand-new bedroom, so after getting some of my favorite pussy, I was relaxing.

“I got you dazed, huh?” Anastazia jested, caressing my freshly twisted hair.

“Always.” I took her hand to kiss it, then did the same to her stomach after inhaling her scent. As soon as I let her hand go, she got back to caressing my head. That shit was feeling amazing. “My moms called me today.”

“To say what?”

“Not Lisara.”

“Your biological mother? For what? How did she get your number?”

“Yes. To tell me she miss me and some other bullshit. She called the bank, which is a public phone number,” I explained.

“So she wants to see you.”

“Yeah.” I ran my hand down my face. “I hate that I’m even interested to hear what the fuck she gotta say. For as long as I can remember, she never gave a fuck about me. She never gave a fuck about nobody, but at least she loved my pops’ money and persona enough to pay him some attention. But me, I was just something that kept her tied to him.” I chuckled mirthlessly. “Back then, I didn’t get it, but as I got older, I saw shit for what it was. I was a chess piece to be sure she never lost my father.”

“Her loss, honestly. She lost a good man and a great son.” Anastazia sat up to look down into my face as my head migrated to her lap. She was so fucking beautiful, the kind that made muthafuckas believe life was sweet. Her curly hair hung, framing her face, as she tucked her full lips in briefly before speaking. “But if you want to listen to her, do it. Go see her and hear what she has to say. Ask her what you want, and make sure she tells you.”

Nodding, I replied, “Yeah, I’m just gon’ put my pops and Lisara up on game. I don’t want them blindsided by her ass popping up.”

“Good thinking.” She smiled down at me before lying back down.

Sitting up, I said, “Ready for round two?”

Giggling as I climbed between her legs, pulling the comforter on top of us, she said, “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Church, remember?” She simpered, staring up at me.

“What time?”

“It starts at eight a.m. so?—”

“Damn!” I exclaimed, making her laugh.

“I know, early. I have to be up at six so I can get myself ready and Sophie too.” She touched the side of my face with a half-smile and said, “You should come.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think God too happy with a nigga like me.” I shook my head.

“He can forgive so long as you ask for it. And it’s not about what people in the church think. You build your own relationship with God. Pray, vent, whatever you want, but always keep a line of open communication with Him.”

I nodded, pondering on her words. I loved her fucking brain… There wasn’t shit about her that I didn’t love.

I’d been to church, especially once my father married Lisara because she made our asses go, until she got tired of rallying us up every weekend.

“Then again, a nigga must’ve done something right for Him to give me you,” I stated honestly, watching her try to hide the smile that eventually broke through before I kissed her.

I didn’t know what the fuck I did to deserve her ass, but I wasn’t gon’ do shit to lose her.

“Or I did something right for Him to give you to me,” she replied.

“I wanna marry you,” I spoke truthfully, watching her blush hard as shit at the sound of my words. “You go every week?”

“I did until I got with him, and then I didn’t have as much wiggle room to do things he didn’t want to unless it was going to work. But even then, he’d sit in the parking lot or roam the hospital to keep an eye on me.”

I frowned as I listened to her speak, her small hands migrating from my beard to my locs.

“I mean, I get the fucking obsession, but not in that way.”

“So you obsessed with me?” She half smiled as I pressed my lips to the area below her breasts, relishing in the softness of her brown skin. Shit was almost preternatural.

“I am.” I lifted my head back up. “I don’t like to think about the shit with you and him, ’cause it makes me wanna do some shit I can’t right now.” I chuckled humorlessly at the many times I’d run by Bashar different ways I could kill that bitch ass nigga without it coming back to Anastazia, but he’d always tell me to be patient. “But when I look at you, listen to you, hear your laugh, enjoy your body… I can’t imagine why a muthafucka would wanna hurt you, women period, but you , specifically. Gotta be the lowest of the low, real shit.”

I saw the damage that nigga did in the smallest ways like how if I kissed her while she was asleep, it would startle her, so I never did it again. Or how whenever she had to pee, she had to right then and couldn’t wait. Lastly, the nightmares and the way she’d tense up if I held her too tightly in the bed.

“He’s only a hair above child molesters and killers, so I would say he fits the bill.” She stared into my eyes as she spoke lowly.

“But aight, I’ll go in the morning.” I changed the subject, noticing how it affected not only her but me. I was laid up with my woman and wasn’t trying to have murderous thoughts right now, especially not after she asked me to attend church with her.

“You will?” She beamed, curly hair splayed across my pillow. She always left the shit smelling like cupcakes with a mix of her Tom Ford perfume. “You wake up early anyway, so you’ll be fine, but I need my sleep.”

Chuckling, I pecked her lips.

“I can’t make love to you then; we just gotta straight fuck.” I sucked on her neck, sliding my arms under her knees as my hard dick pressed at her opening. “Fuck, baby.” I moaned like a bitch as I was making my way inside.

“Mmm.” Her voice trembled as she started to open up more, allowing me in fully. “Not yet,” she let me know, wanting me to continue to move at a snail’s pace until she was ready.

Listening, I slipped my tongue into her mouth as I glided in and out slowly, feeling her coat me more with each plunge. As it got easier to penetrate her, she nodded subtly, so I gradually started to beat it up, nutting so hard just four minutes later that I was paralyzed for a bit, moaning like a ho. At least she got two beforehand.

THE NEXT MORNING…

The three of us entered the medium-sized church, me carrying Sophie as I held Anastazia’s hand with my free one.

“Thanks for coming.” She smiled up at me just before we walked down the aisle of a pew to take our seats.

“Couldn’t let you go alone. These niggas in church be plotting,” I whispered, making her suck her teeth with a snicker.

For the next two hours, we listened to the choir sing, the pastor preach his sermon, and then we donated. It was hilarious seeing Anastazia’s eyes widen when I dropped a knot into the golden bowl. The pastor made sure to bow his head to me in thanks when he peeped the shit.

“Brunch?” Sophie quizzed as we stood up now that the service was over.

“What you know ’bout brunch?” I laughed at her, adjusting her on my side as some corny ass nigga came over toward Anastazia. She was a bit ahead of us since Sophie needed me to pick up her toy wand that she’d dropped.

Grabbing the toy, I handed it to Sophie as I made my way over, not liking the way cuz was cheesing as he took my lady in, in the dress she had on.

“I’ve been praying for you, though, sista. You sholl don’t look like what you been through either.” He licked his lips but paused midway as I walked up.

“Who dis?” I quizzed, eyes looking down at him.

“Randall.” He stuck his hand out to me so I could shake it.

“You look like a fucking Randall,” I said, declining on the hand shake..

“Asif.” Anastazia bucked her eyes at me. “Randall and I went to high school together.”

“Oh, aight. Well Randall, Anastazia is a taken woman. Wasn’t sure if you peeped game, so I’m letting you know. That way, won’t be no excuses going forward.”

Chuckling nervously, he said, “Anastazia has always been taken for as long as I’ve known her.”

Chuckling myself, I said, “Oh, aight. Well, this is the first time she’s been taken by a crazy nigga. Feel me?” I let my smile fade, and so did he. “So next time you see her, keep yo’ hands to yaself. A simple head nod in her direction will suffice. But if you can’t keep them muthafuckas to yaself, I can take ’em.” The spooked expression that appeared on his face would’ve been comical had I not been dead ass serious. “God blessed me with these hands, so I ain’t above putting ’em on a nigga in the name of the Lord. Amen?”

Anastazia gasped so she wouldn’t laugh.

“Amen, brother.” He smoothed down his tie, snickering in a skittish manner as he glanced at Anastazia.

“Uh-huh. Fuck on, nigga.” I bobbed my head in the direction he needed to go.

“Ya’ll have a blessed evening.”

“You too. Bitch ass nigga,” I stated as he walked off.

“Asif, he is harmless and flirts like that all the time.” Anastazia was still slightly chuckling from Randall’s and my interaction as we walked out of the church. “He knows it will never happen, just like in school.”

“I don’t care what that nigga always does. It’s a new muthafuckin’ sheriff in town, and if he keep on, he gon’ be in that church for a whole nother reason.”

“I’m sure that man will never even look my way again.” She got in the car as I held the door open for her.

“Then I did my job.” I shut the door, then opened the back to put Sophie in the car seat I’d bought. “Ain’t that right, Soph?”

“Yep!” She nodded excitedly. “Brunch?”

“Yes, baby girl.” I chuckled at her assertive ass, pecked her forehead, then shut the back door.

As I stood upright and rounded it, Randall and I made eye contact. He gave me a disingenuous smile and then turned away.

I watched as every nigga I employed under Money Fiends came and sat down in the large room of the warehouse. It was dim in here, only being illuminated by three hanging lightbulbs on their last legs.

“I’m gon’ keep shit short and to the point.” I sat on the edge of one of the desks, feeling like a professor of a college class. “Grady is officially the opps.”

I watched niggas look at each other in waves across the room.

“We ain’t say shit yet because we been watching you niggas, seeing if he came to any of y’all for anything first,” Low stated, standing off to the side.

“Exactly.” I stood to my full height. “But now that we see he ain’t about to try to link up with one of you niggas, we can move forward. First things first, him being the opps is some information that stays in this fucking room.” I eyed everybody as they nodded. “We put the word out, and it’ll be like telling the nigga we looking for him. I want him to think I don’t give a fuck or let him go so he can pop out. The more we talk, the harder he gon’ be to find. Plus, we don’t wanna make too much noise in the streets because that noise starts traveling to muthafuckas working with twelve.”

“Why can’t we just murk his mama and little sisters? I bet you then that nigga will come out quick!” one soldier named Jere called out.

“Nah.” I shook my head, and Jere sucked his teeth, making the room go quiet as I looked his way. “You got a problem, cuz?” I questioned.

“Nah, not like that, boss. I’m just saying, I think it’ll make his elimination easier if we take out his people.” Jere’s once cocky expression had shifted to one of a baby fresh off his mama’s nipple.

“Everybody in here knows we got strict rules against killing harmless muthafuckas, especially females. His mama and sisters don’t have shit to do with what Grady got going on.” I whipped my head around the room to be sure everyone in here understood what I said. “Bet not one of you niggas touch his family, or I’m gon’ touch you, have you waiting in line at the pearly gates right behind ’em.”

The room nodded, but Jere said, “I’m with all that but?—”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as I hit him in the bridge of his nose with the butt of my Glock.

“My bad. You thought this was a roundtable, a discussion or some shit. It’s not. However, if you got a problem with how I run shit, you can exit, be in the same position as Grady. But if you gon’ stay in here, lil nigga, you gon’ shut the fuck up, show some respect, and follow the muthafuckin’ rules.”

Jere nodded, eyes watering as he cupped his bleeding nose. I nodded for Free to take Jere to get his nose handled by Anastazia.

“Get up, nigga.” Free yanked Jere up, tugging him out the room.

“Like I said, touch Grady’s family and you dead. Don’t say shit about Money Fiends and Grady being on the outs, or you dead. You see that nigga, shoot first, ask questions later. Other than that, keep your eyes open, ears clear, and mouth shut. Aight?” I stated, and everyone nodded while clamoring about, a few of them letting out the snickers they’d been holding on Jere’s behalf as they filed out of the room.

I chopped it up with Low for a second, then went to step outside since I saw Unique calling.

“What’s good, nigga?” I picked up, eying the rural area that surrounded the warehouse.

“Where you at? Boo’d up?”

“Nigga, shut up. I will be later on.” I looked over my shoulder, back at the warehouse as if it were Anastazia. Crazy how I missed her ass, and she was in the same fucking building as me. A nigga had it bad.

“Sissy ass.”

“Funny you think me having a woman is being a sissy. You know what they say about them niggas that can’t settle down, right?”

“I don’t know what they say about them niggas, but it ain’t about me.” He shot back, making me laugh. “My biological father stay settled down, and he like dick, so that already disproves ya theory.”

“Aight. We can change the subject. I ain’t trying to think about pastor and dick.”

Laughing, he said, “I’m having a party next weekend. I need you to come.”

“Girlfriends invited?”

“Asif, man, no! You my last single brother, dog!”

“Except I’m not.”

“Now who I’m gon’ fuck bitches with?”

“We never fucked bitches together.” I made sure I was still alone and that Anastazia wasn’t creeping up behind a nigga. “I ain’t into that type of shit.” Sliding in a bitch another nigga just pulled out of had never been my thing. If the homie fucked at any point in time, it was highly unlikely I would as well, let alone within minutes of each other.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yo’ co-star homeboy, what about him?”

“He with somebody, and I ain’t a fan of helping niggas cheat, but seems like he’s all I got at the fucking moment.”

“Yep.” I snickered. “You fucked my secretary?”

I’d been meaning to ask.

“Why?”

I could tell by how he’d asked that something had gone down.

“’Cause she different, nigga. Be coming into my office all bashful and shit. And she ain’t worn a questionable length skirt in a month. That ain’t like her.” I watched Jere walk out with a bandaged nose, nodding his head to me in passing. “Did you?”

“Don’t say shit about what I’m gon’ tell you.”

“I don’t gossip.”

“We was about to, but when I got a little finger action, you know to test everything and make sure she was smelling right, I almost threw up when I wiped my nose, nigga.”

Silence lingered before he and I guffawed loudly on the phone.

“And you still hit? Tell me you didn’t, nigga.” I was on the edge of my seat and thanking God I didn’t attempt to fuck Diamond.

I’d run across a few women with stenches in the past, and the shit softened my dick immediately. I usually tried to tell their asses nicely what the issue was before sending their asses on. I’d never been horny or thirsty enough to slide into a bitch with a hot cat.

“Fuck outta here. I put my fingers to her nose, and she even jumped back.” I was bent over laughing by this point. “I was like, yeah, that’s you, lil mama. Told her to pack it up, and we ain’t spoken since.”

“Oh shit.” I ran my hand down my face. “That’s why she all shy now. She got humbled like a muthafucka.”

“I guess so. I blocked her ass, just in case.” He laughed along with me. “I ain’t tell you ’cause I wasn’t trying to embarrass her.”

“You know damn well I ain’t gon’ tell her that shit. Fuck wrong with you?”

“I know, but you’ll fuck around and get mad at her ass one day and tell her she had green smoke coming from ya brother’s fingers. No lie, her shit was on my fingers for three days straight. This is through two showers a day and washing my hands after using the bathroom several times a day. Thought I was gon’ have to go to the hospital for some cream or some shit.”

We chortled in unison as Anastazia walked out of the warehouse, smiling but also looking confused as to what I found so hilarious.

“What kind of cream, nigga?” I was grinning.

“Shit, pussy fungal cream or something. Shit, I don’t know. May have had to give me the Prime special and chop these two muthafuckas off.”

“Easy on my pops, nigga.” I chuckled. “I gotta go.”

“Oh shit, mini-Mrs. St. Thomas must be there.”

“She is.” I brought her into me, feeling her stare up into my face.

“Ask her if she got another sister hidden somewhere, but she gotta look like her and Analicia. I can’t deal with pungent coochie and a butter face in the same month, bruh.”

“Bye, nigga.” I hung up, cackling a little.

“Better not be a woman making you laugh like that.” She smiled as I bent down to kiss her, arm still slung around her shoulders as she hugged me.

“You the only one who can make me laugh, love.”

“I know.” She pursed her lips with a simper. “Did you hit that boy?”

“I’m gon’ take you out for lunch.” I started leading her to my car and opened the door.

“Asif.”

“Mrs. St. Thomas,” I retorted, and a grin broke through her attempt to have a serious face before she slid into my car obediently.